Written For:
Hogwarts Houses Competition: Gryffindor, Round 10, Themed (Goodbye), Emotion (Jealousy)
The Golden Snitch: Swear Jar
Word Count: 706
"It's just something I need to do, Vernon."
"Of course, Pet."
Whatever one could say about Vernon – and, Petunia knew, there was loads to say about Vernon – the man adored her. Vernon Dursley was better than Petunia in every way, and she resented him for it.
Oh, she appreciated Vernon. Loved him. But she longed for his respected status and his guilt-free life.
"Stop the car! Here!" She made her tone as authoritative as she could. The dumpy escort – Festia Bones or some other freaky name – still hadn't gotten used to it. At first the witch had been shocked. Now she was disgusted. Disgusted with the family of the heroic Boy-Who-Lived. Well, Petunia was disgusted too.
Nobody lived at the Evans home anymore. The vines, tended so lovingly by Petunia's mother when she was alive, snaked over the door and in through the windows. Lilies bloomed semi-wild, overtaking the grass.
Hestia-festia and the others circled the perimeter. Petunia walked to the side of the house. The gate had crumbled long ago, but Petunia could still make out 'Die, Mudblood' carved into it.
Die, Mudblood.
Over and over again.
She felt the earth with her right hand. Her pink sundress – Vernon's gift, patterned with little blackbirds and with a modestly high neckline – dusted the ground. She'd always hated gardening. Lily had loved it. Blasted perfect Lily with her perfect garden that the neighbors had adored so much…
Well, she had forced Lily's boy to garden. After all, the more Petunia hated Harry, the more he was Lily's boy.
Her index finger made contact with the little black box. And then her entire hand wrapped around it and she pulled it up, spraying herself with soil as she did so.
The clasp fell off as she touched it, allowing the box to spring open. Inside were three stacks of letters, perfectly even in height. Each one was addressed to her – most to Miss Petunia Aya Evans, but the top of the third stack to Mrs. Petunia Evans Dursley.
She picked the first one she saw. It was written in emerald ink.
Dear Tuney,
I know we haven't been on the best of terms these past few years, but I still really miss you. We're still sisters, you know. I know I haven't been blameless in this and I'm not trying to say that I am….
And then she pulled out another one. The ink was crimson this time, and this was when Lily had stopped using parchment.
Dear Tuney,
I want you to know you were right about Sev. I'd been having second thoughts for a long time, and I finally broke it off last night. I cried and cried about it but I know it was the right thing.
And in a lot of ways, you were right about magic too. I know you think Hogwarts is great, but I'm having a really tough time of it. I'm not that close to any of my dormmates. I get good marks, but the Pureblood students trip me in the hallways and tear up my stuff. James is the only one who stands up to them, but in return he thinks I ought to…
Petunia scoffed. Poor little Lily. She'd never told her parents about the bullying. Petunia had pretended she didn't care, that it was the fair price Lily paid to be a part of that world. She'd told Lily as much, told Lily she deserved it for leaving her sister behind, for not appreciating all she had.
Die, Mudblood.
Lily deserved everything.
Dear Tuney,
I'm sorry dinner didn't go so well…
And then, carved into the gate, DIE MUDBLOOD!
DIE MUDBLOOD! Over and over again. They'd taken Lily, and they'd take her son.
Dear Tuney,
James and I are getting married. I'd love for you and Vernon to be there. I'm worried about your safety. I don't know…
Petunia shoved the letter away, slamming the lid. She threw the clasp at a bush, causing a bird to shoot away angrily. Then she tossed the box back into the earth, throwing mud over it in a frenzied rage.
Goodbye Lily.
Petunia's clothes were splattered with mud now. She thought of Harry, working endlessly in the dirt.
Die, Mudblood.